


merry-go-round

by serpico



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Symbolism, Trauma, i tried writing a more personal piece for once, thinly veiled allusions to coping methods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:57:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10095701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serpico/pseuds/serpico
Summary: Round and around and around it goes.When it'll stop, nobody knows.





	

Head to a carnival and it’s more likely than not that you’ll see one of them. Attendees only glance at them to consider whether they should sit on one of the mounts or not- no consideration is given to the staff that look after the attraction. It’s a simple, yet large contraption, its only purpose being to spin around and thus bring joy to the people on it. It seems so simple, and while perhaps whimsical, it’s completely manmade. Yet, it’s seen as a symbol of childhood.

Yes, childhood, with its pastel horses and chariots and bright lights and mirrors. It’s all just paint covering up the inner workings. It was never made to be an all-encompassing symbol. Only those little ones who were curious and carefree could look at the bright colors and think of happier times.

No amount of paint could cover up what happened. No matter how much sugarcoating, no matter how many showers, no matter how many ribbons of blood flowed, it would continue to leave its stain on that body, and the cold steel underneath would continue to show itself. That lamb would lament at all the paint work they’ve put into it, only for it to fade away. No one wants to see the ugly interior, but it’s showing and they can only cover it up for so long.

Sometimes they would forget who created this merry-go-round in the first place. In better times, it’s almost nearly forgotten about. Yet it lingers in the back of their head, waiting to be revealed yet again. It could never leave their mind.

And in times it’s remembered, it spins. Its rusted music-box tune fills their ears. Blinding lights seem to almost flicker against the contraption. Withered horses bob up and down. Around and around it goes. No matter how much one would shut their eyes, the light would still make it through. No matter how tightly one plugged their ears, the melody would sneak its way in. There was almost certainly no way to escape from this, the merry-go-round that took up nearly all the space in the room.

There were multiple ways to handle it when it started rotating. Some were clearly far healthier than others, but when faced with the situation itself, sometimes not everyone can take the same path.

This poor lamb had already dealt with this situation many times before, and yet, their state could not possibly let them ignore it. They were at a loss, wondering what they should do. So they stared it in the face.

It was ugly. The lights were far too bright and the music was much too discordant. The paint was reduced to mere chips, and even those were fading away quickly. The amount of work that would have to be put in to restore it to a brighter and more pleasing state was far too much; the lamb could see this just from observing. It’s too much. There’s no way anyone could help them fix this without them having to see just how horrendous it was. No, this would have to be dealt with by themselves; yet, the unfortunate lamb could not even find the will to put in the effort. Still, the ride kept spinning, round and round, never stopping.

Heart thumping, the lamb stood and made its way toward the machinery, and climbed onto it. This was the only thing it could do for now. Solemnly, it stared out from inside the ride, seeing the scenery spin around them. It made them dizzy. It was more sickening than just watching it spin. Yet, they decided that this was all that could be done at the moment, and closed their eyes, feeling nothing more than deep sorrow and regret about how bad of a situation it had gotten itself into.

And the merry-go-round continued to spin.

Round and around and around.


End file.
